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neechees · 3 months

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Raisedeyebrowemojii Scamming information post

So as some of you know, it's been revealed that @raisedeyebrowemojii was a scammer, and for those of you that don't know, I'm sorry you had to find out this way. This is going to be an information post on raisedeyebrowemojii's scamming, lies, the evidence, and where they stole from, and the debunking of all their claims as comprehensively as possible to help the people they scammed and manipulated get some closure, and hopefully to provide insight on how you might spot them again.

I carried out an investigation on the now confirmed scammer, and now deactivated user @blktransdyke, who deleted within hours of my callout post. On that post I connected blktransdyke as being the same person behind raisedeyebrowemojii due to the information both of them had posted for alleged fundraisers, which you can see in the post here. For a short recap, both blktransdyke and raisedeyebrowemojii "Jay" both had the exact same story of allegedly being trans/homeless/disabled and posted photos of the exact same brown tabby cat named "Trouble", both claiming that it was their "best friend's cat" and raisedeyebrowemojii created a patreon for Trouble the cat, only for me to find that Trouble the cat is a hyperpopular cat vlogging/fanpage with 42K followers on facebook, and both of these blogs stole from this page and neither of them were affiliated with this famous facebook.

Moving on, with some help, ive also found more evidence that raisedeyebrowemojii was a scammer. I know many people were already convinced by the callout post I already did, but I think it's important to debunk a lot of raisedeyebrowemojii's claims due to the fact that so many people thought they were genuine, that they had died, and due to the fact that they stole pretty much every detail of their alleged life from somewhere else, and I can prove it, so I want to clear things up, and maybe allow some people to gain peace in the knowledge that "Jay" did not die, and was never in danger of dying to begin with.

The rest of this post will be under the cut because again, this is going to get long. I encourage everyone who was approached by or donated to raisedeyebrowemojii to reblog to help get the word out, thank you. Image descriptions will be available in alt text.

For starters, raisedeyebrowemojii went by the name "Jay", and on the donation posts of theirs (scams), they used the paypal name "Jay Baldwin", and Jay claimed to be disabled (allegedly they had tourettes, autism, cerebral palsey, were deaf, in a wheelchair, had a terminal kidney disease, and allegedly other undisclosed disabilities), Canadian, that they lived in the city of Toronto (in Ontario, Canada), and a trans lesbian. Screenshots for that below

Misuse of terminology & racefaking

Let's talk about their bio first. I suspect that the scammer behind this blog is neither Black nor Canadian, due to the fact that, as I mentioned in this post, 1. Black Canadians don't really refer to themselves as "African American" as much here in Canada, partly due to the fact that a lot of Black Canadians actually have roots from the Caribbean & not directly from Africa or America, 2. "Jay" claimed to be Canadian but also said they had an uncle & grandparents still living in South Africa, which means they're implying they're either a first or second generation African Canadian immigrant, so why would they call themselves "African American" if they have no national/ethnic ties to America, and they are Canadian? So, like the blktransdyke blog, who i proved is most likely the same person as raisedeyebrowemojii, both of these blogs are using incorrect/strange terminology for the ethnicities they claim to be, thus indicating racefaking and a falsified Nationality.

Falsified Nationality

Here I also have reason to believe this person is not Canadian, or in the very least, did not live in the city of Toronto, or likely the province of Ontario. Partly due to the evidence ive just given above, but also due to the reasons I'm about to give & the connected next point I'll get to soon. For one example, "Jay" made the donation post in the first screenshot i gave where they claimed they were scared they were going to freeze to death, and that they could hardly even type on their phone due to the absolute insane cold temperatures of Toronto.

However, I took a look at the Toronto weather forecast for the day that raisedeyebrowemojii posted that update (February 12th, 2023) and found that the temperature had gotten up to 6°C (or 42.8°F), with very little wind, and it didn't even get below freezing temperatures that day, and only got two degrees below freezing the night before (which is when they claim they were staying in a shelter). Canadians will know that this type of temperature in FEBRUARY is actually very very warm and pleasant. Like, unseasonably, weirdly warm. Screenshot for that below.

Now, for an actual homeless person, being outside in the cold, even if it's warmer than usual, this is still difficult and harsh conditions to live under. However, this is still a large exaggeration from what Raisedeyebrowemojii claimed it was, and youre not very likely to freeze to death in this kind of weather compared to the usual Canadian temperatures. The way "Jay" described it makes me think that it is not a Canadian who made this post, and is someone who was not in Toronto to actually know what temperature it was that day, but just assumed it would be very cold.

Impersonation of the real Jay Baldwin

Thanks to some help (of people whom I will keep anonymous for their safety & as a precaution of the scammer harassing them), i managed to locate the identity of the REAL Jay Baldwin, and was able to concretely find out that this person is who raisedeyebrowemojii was impersonating. So, who is the real Jay Baldwin you ask?

Jay Baldwin is a Black, disabled (who uses a wheelchair and has Cerebral Palsey) nonbinary Canadian and the founder of the private Facebook support group "Disabled, Queer, and Fabulous" with over 1.1K members, and is a student at Carleton university in Ontario, Canada, and this Jay Baldwin has actually been doing really well for themselves, and has gotten pretty famous in the Ottawa area. And, as you can see, the raisedeyebrowemojii "Jay" apparently has a lot in common with THIS Jay Baldwin, including their names, being Black, a disabled wheelchair user with Cerebral palsey, nonbinary, Canadian living in Ontario, and both use they/them pronouns. But let me show you how I know they've been stealing from this person.

One way I can tell that raisedeyebrowemojii definitely was not THIS Jay Baldwin is their faces. On the screenshot to the left is the icon that raisedeyebrowemojii (of allegedly "themselves") used for their blog, taken from the webarchive screenshot of their blog, and to the right is a cropped portrait photo of the real Jay Baldwin, taken from this information page on the official Carleton University website, which also lists most of the information I just listed about the REAL Jay.

Obviously these two people look absolutely nothing alike. And we can tell that raisedeyebrowemojii meant for their scamsona to look like the person on the left, because they also used a photo of another dark-skinned Black person in ANOTHER donation post. So they stole these selfies from a different person altogether, although I haven't yet been able to locate where they'd stolen them.

One of the reasons that raisedeyebrowemojii's lies were so convincing though is that they were stealing or misconstruing some of Jay Baldwin's life experiences almost in real time, and I believe that raisedeyebrowemojii was keeping tabs on Jay in order to harvest their life details. For example, on a Facebook post, Jay Baldwin mentioned the death of their father a few times, but also on June 26th 2022, made the memorial post below about the death of their uncle

and meanwhile, on August 25th 2022, raisedeyebrowemojii ALSO suddenly started saying that their dad died, which you can see on the screenshot of their tumblr profile, which as webarchive screenshot shows, was not there before. While they changed the dates, raisedeyebrowemojii was clearly pulling from the real Jay's life, so it looks like we can see around the time that the dcammer decided to randomly incorporate this into their scamsona. As far as I can find, raisedeyebrowemojii never made a donation post regarding their "Father" and said that he was abusive, so adding this detail from the real Jay's life shows that it was unnecessary except to look more real and to manipulate people into believing them.

In the ways that raisedeyebrowemojii misconstrued things, they also of course constantly used the story that they were either homeless or on the verge of being homeless. Where Jay would post facebook updates of doing very well and being happy in life and even doing & hosting events for disability rights, raisedeyebrowemojii around the same time would post about needing money due to either allegedly starving, of dying, needing medical attention, or being homeless.

Below are screenshots of, in the order that they appear (so we're going chronologically in time that these were posted by both raisedeyebrowemojii and Jay Baldwin respectively) from left to right, raisedeyebrowemojii asking for money on February 16th 2023 talking about being in allegedly horrific conditions, then Jay Baldwin posting a peppy update on facebook, looking very happy and having a drink with the caption "Cheers to life!" on February 22nd, and then another donation scam post by raisedeyebrowemojii begging for money saying they're "on the streets" and "will die", posted on February 26th 2023.

You'll be happy to know that the real Jay Baldwin is not homeless or food insecure, and seems to have had a good relationship with both of their parents and is in an accepting home, unlike what raisedeyebrowemojii claimed THEY had, and claimed they were being abused. Raisedeyebrowemojii likely falsified all that while still impersonating Jay and keeping tabs on them in order to create a false sense of urgency whenever they wanted money at random.

Normally I wouldn't go into this much detail about the people who were stolen from in scams, but I feel like this case in particular it was important to point out where the scammer was pulling from to debunk their lies, but also because the real Jay Baldwin has become quite an iconic figure in their area, and all this information was taken from multiple publicly available sources, and so I can only assume that Jay is comfortable with this personal information being known.

Little to no life details, interests, or personality outside of the impersonating Jay Baldwin, and manipulation

As I'm sure many of you know by now (as ive mentioned it in previous posts, and that some of you currently reading this were victims of the scammer), but raisedeyebrowemojii contacted multiple, predominantly Black users to attempt to befriend them, and they did this in order to appear more legitimate, and most likely so that they had "friends" to call upon should any of their scams have been questioned. We've also seen this with multiple other scammers where a new blog will appear and suddenly start tagging mostly Black users to ask them to (unknowingly) reblog their scam posts.

And as a more famous example, we've seen this with the famed scammer Laura Deramas where she befriended multiple users to get them to stick up for her.

But to get down to the title's point, outside of the life details they were stealing or misconstruing from the real Jay, Raisedeyebrowemojii didn't have much of their own personality or traits, which is common in scams. Say, for example, a scammer will create a scamsona who is a lesbian and loves cats and is making a fake donation post for a sick cat, and so in order to make their blog look more convincing, they will randomly reblog popular posts from tags about cats or lesbianism.

In Raisedeyebrowemojii's case, we had one user mention that while Raisedeyebrowemojii was trying to "befriend" them, Raisedeyebrowemojii would only answer very generic questions asked of them despite the fact that they sent the messages first appearing to try to get to know that user, like answering "I like reading!" Instead of answering what their favorite books are if asked about their interests. Below is a screenshot of that conversation. This user emphasizes that they never got an answer to the last question they asked.

"Kidney disease" and alleged "death"

I stated on my blog that I believe raisedeyebrowemojii randomly said that they were diagnosed with a "terminal kidney disease" (allegedly chronic kidney disease) specifically with the view that they could leave, deactivate, or abandon their blog and then move onto ANOTHER scam blog (and likely this was the blktransdyke blog) without looking suspicious or weird, because then people would just assume they had died, which is exactly what happened.

Raisedeyebrowemojii stopped posting around June 2023, and the blktransdyke blog appeared in early April 2023, which makes me think this is when they started to move to that blog or potentially even another blog we don't yet know about. Funeral scams, or scams where the scammer pretends their persona has "died" in general is not new and is actually pretty common. It's possible that raisedeyebrowemojii was going to (or may still attempt) to return on another blog and pretend to be a family member or "friend" of the raisedeyebrowemojii in order to ask for alleged "funeral money", which we've seen with blogs like the now deleted blog @destrawberry.

But the main reason I think why they stopped posting in specifically June is because that is around the time the real Jay Baldwin was gaining popularity again, doing multiple public events, and was doing very very well, so I think the scammer became aware there was now more of a chance of people discovering their scam. In June, Jay won an award at an LGBT film festival for a documentary they had made ("Supporting Out Selves") and an Academic Hospital wrote a piece on their success, and in August they announced that they teamed up with ASE Community Foundation for Black Canadians with Disabities to host their 3rd student summit in September. You can find evidence of this by googling or by looking at Jay Baldwin's facebook, but of course, please give respect to the real Jay Baldwin & do not pester them.

Conclusion

All in all I hope that this clarifies a lot of things for those of you that were confused by all this, and again, I extend my dearest sympathies to those who donated to raisedeyebrowemojii and were manipulated by them, I know the feeling and I'm so terribly sorry that it's happened to you too. I advise any Black users especially to be very cautious about any new blogs with a donation post up that is new, and this new blog is trying to ask you to reblog their donation post: it's common for scammers to retarget anybody who may have donated to them, talked to them, or even just barely interacted with them before.

I'll put some of raisedeyebrowemojii's old paypals, gfm accounts, etc in either the replies or another reblog, because for now I'm running out of space. If you donated to them at any point, i suggest you report their accounts where you did the donating. And in the mean time, my colleague @kyra45 is taking testimonies on raisedeyebrowemojii, so if you have an experience with this scammer and would like to share that experience with us so we can document this scammer's behavior, please send Kyra an ask.

#raisedeyebrowemojii #scam #donation scam #blktransdyke #donation scammer #scams

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weeb-polls-with-pip · 4 months

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Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 6

Propaganda:

Kiriwo -

"Seems innocent at first and he's just a guy with a special interest in magic items, but watch out."

Arjuna -

"MASKING KING!!!!!! ok joke aside one of his biggest things is that he's super scared that if anyone gets too close to him they'll notice he's not perfect/has a 'secret darkness' (that's literally just a guy) and overall a lot of his storyline is a strong parallel for being neurodivergent and becoming more comfortable with accepting it. he's also super strict and hard on himself for any sort of failure that isn't in line with what's socially appropriate but at the same time he doesn't always have a good grasp on what that is which is how you get stuff like him blowing up a forest to try and impress someone. it also runs in his family bc his brother is autistic as hell too."

Sherlock -

"God, where do I start? I mean what Holmes adaptation, even if he's not the main character, would this be if he were not autistic coded? And our combo of autism and ADHD is absolute perfection, all tied up with a pretty, excitable face. Hit him with the crime hyperfixation and do not make him wear socks."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Heiji -

"90% of the cast in detective conan is autistic but heiji is the most autistic of them all."

Urara -

"Another alien who is so excited to dance with everyone that he does not understand that his intended purpose of inviting people to dance via water communication is brainwashing them into dancing and is causing extreme chaos. He nearly causes an apocalypse by being so excited about dancing but he apologizes and tries to make friends with Yuki at the end of the story. He is extremely soft spoken and try, finding it difficult to begin conversations and fidgeting."

Shu -

"speaking specifically about the first season but he was the "explains everything so the audience knows whats happening" guy. he was pretty antisocial (not sure if thats just how he was or if he lived alone [which was fucked up cause he was 11]) . im trying to think of more but my brain goes hghghhhggggh im just a big fan of him."

Vash -

"ain’t no way i’m the only one who’s submitted him. go look at the gif of him crawling in the dirt like a bug while he dodges bullets and get back to me."

Hyakkimaru -

"Due to a terrible curse he has lived his whole life without several body parts including his eyes and ears. Because of this he is often overstimulated and awkward in new situations (when he doesn't do what he does best, killing monsters and samurai with his sword arms) He can't say or express much, and often comes off as strange and creepy, but he is actually a cutie patootie full of emotions, has a big heart, a keen brain, endless inner strength and loves the people close to him! This adorable, cursed, demon slaying boy deserves everything!"

Kei -

"He has the tbh face. Also he canonically has sensory issues and gets sensory overload. He constantly wears earbuds. He has an extremely rigid sense of morality and considers himself a savior figure. He has a hard time relating to other people and is a bit awkward in his interactions."

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adventuringblind · 8 months

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(●’◡’●)ﾉ, I'm in loove with your Oscar Piastri x autistic!reader series, it gives really beautiful perspective on navigating relationships while being neurodivergent. I was wondering if you do a imagine/headcannon for Oscar and reader and how they navigate sexual intimacy in particular, like do's and donts, emotions during it stuff like that. If ur not comfortable writing that then it's ok, I just thought it would be interesting ♡

Bedroom Procedures

Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader

Genre: spicy things ahead but not smut

Request: the way I ran to write this... send me more ideas like this please they are my favorite to write!

Summary: Oscar and Reader navigate through intimacy

Warnings: again... spicy things. However there is no real depiction of anything happening!

Notes: aight, so this is again how I navigate because that's what I know. This is not a depiction of how every autistic person is when it comes to being intimate. Remember that autism is a spectrum and everyone is different.

Masterlist

Being intimate with each other actually took a long time

At least longer than what is probably average

And that's in opinion

She wants to have sex with Oscar

It's just that it's difficultt and there are so many different feelings that is gets overwhelming quickly

It doesn't help she's trying to dive straight in whenever they try it

Oscar pays attention however

Her body language is how he can understand her feelings

So he knows exactly what he's doing even if she doesn't get it yet

The next time things get a little heated, Oscar slows them both down

"Why are you stopping? Did I do something wrong?"

"Absolutely not, just thought we would try something different."

In her head, different is strange because there is usually an order to these things, and it should become routine eventually

Oscar has other plans

He starts taking their intimate moments incredibly slow

Introducing her to different sensations and letting her tell him what she likes and doesn't

Soon, he has a comprehensive list of dos and don'ts

Like how sometimes she prefers to keep on a loose shirt because otherwise the skin on skin is to much

Not all the time

He always asks before they do anything if she would like to wear one of his shirts

Or how her biting him is usually a good sign because it means she's happy

(Something she does even when they aren't having sex)

Oral is a grey area for her

Sometimes, she'll suck him off for hours, and others, she gets overwhelmed just thinking about it

Oscar doesn't care, though, because he loves her no matter what she's feeling up to

One thing he was not expecting was for her to be relatively kinky

Experimenting is everything

Hard yes and no things but down to try before deciding

Oscar got a bit experimental after he got a general idea and their bedroom communication was good

Again... communication is a key point

He's always asking questions and reading her body just as she is with him

The fact that it's a vulnerable state and both of them are connecting in a way with emotions that even sex itself can't give is incredibly intimate

They don't even make it there sometimes because the emotional ties are just so deep that they simply spend time memorizing each other

Another thing is vocals

Oscar is usually composed and level-headed

Sex however is completely different

It's where he is able to express himself in ways he couldn't before

Also, listening to his voice is something that helps her know if she's doing okay

She also experiments with her voice

Vocal stimming during sex happens often, and it happens when she is on the edge

Her parroting is endearing ad well

Sometimes Oscar will moan or hum in a way and she will copy

A non-verbal agreement to keep going

Can go for maybe two rounds maximum

Maybe three or four but that's on a good day

Follows a routine of how things go down and there is definitely communication beforehand

Even if both parties are in the heat of the moment, he will not start anything without giving an idea of what will happen

It's like an unwritten rule so that she isn't trying to read the situation and get frustrated with herself if she can't understand what's happening

Clear cut yes and no

There is no maybe

All communication is cut and dry, and there is no beating around the bush

Because of her willingness to touch, but only from those she's allowed, Oscar is a teeny tiny bit possessive

If anyone touches her who she's not comfortable with he won't hesitate to bite her in reciprocation

She bites him, he bites her, it's a pattern they keep going because he knows its her love language

Also, it creates some fun on other places

Really the two are very good at setting boundaries and communicating

It makes things fun for both of them and there is never any feelings hurt

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filmmakerdreamst · 5 months

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P.J.Hogan's 'Peter Pan' is still an underrated masterpiece 20 years later

Peter Pan is a live-action fantasy adventure film directed by P. J. Hogan that reimagines the classic story of Peter and Wendy. The screenplay was written by P. J. Hogan and Michael Goldenberg and was released in cinemas in December 2003. The screenplay is based on the 1904 play Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Upand the classic novel Peter Pan by J.M.Barrie, which was originally published under the title Peter and Wendy.

The film tells the story of a young Edwardian girl, Wendy Darling (Rachel Hurd-Wood) and her two younger brothers John and Michael. On the night she is told she must grow up, a wild, fairy-like boy called Peter Pan (Jeremy Sumpter) flies into her room with his high-maintenance fairy Tinkerbell. When he learns that she tells stories, he whisks Wendy and her two brothers away to a magical Island called Neverland — where you supposedly don’t “grow up” — so that she can mother his henchmen, the Lost Boys. There she fights pirates led by the evil Captain Hook (Jason Isaacs), meets mermaids, dances with fairies, falls in love and grows up.

I have strong family connections tied to Peter and Wendy and J.M.Barrie. My great, great uncle Nico was one of the sons of Sylvia Llewelyn Davies'. He and his other brothers "the Lost Boys" were adopted by J.M.Barrie; which ultimately inspired him to write Peter Pan. Nico’s daughter Laura — my cousin — who I met for the first time a few years ago, told me that she was flown to Australia for the filming of P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan because she was J.M.Barrie’s goddaughter. She told me that she was thrilled with the cast, especially Jason Isaacs, who played Captain Hook and Mr Darling. She also mentioned that Jeremy Sumpter, who played Peter Pan, was a lovely boy. However, she said she was very surprised and sad that the film wasn’t a big success as she really liked what they did with the story. I have loved the fairytale of Peter Pan from a young age, and learning that I am literally part of the family that inspired the story was very exciting and I’ve only begun to internalise it more as I’ve grown older.

When I was in my mid-twenties, I was diagnosed with a high level of Autism. One of my main symptoms was labelled “ageless”, which in simple terms means that one half of me is still a child that I can’t mentally leave behind. I can’t do many things that most adults can do, such as pay bills, drive a car, look after my own well being etc. I flap my hands when I get excited. I bounce. I sometimes speak in a baby voice. I overcommit to things I enjoy. I admit that it was hard to come to terms with the diagnosis when I first received it. But over time, I’ve come to believe that the two can coexist in a healthy way. I believe that I am an adult who is able to develop and grow while still carrying the child within me, and that this is not seen as a bad thing. I think Peter and Wendy can be seen as a reflection of that.

I was first introduced to P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan a few years after it was released (I was maybe nine or ten years old), and I absolutely loved it. It wasn’t only one of my favourite film adaptations, but one of my favourite movies of all time. What surprised me most about the film at that age was how dark and gruesome it was, and full of this underlying sexual tension that I hadn’t expected at all from Peter Pan. Even today, this film still has a special place in my heart. It is made with so much passion and love for the original text that I can automatically put myself back into the story. After watching the film again as an adult, I almost immediately opened my copy of Peter and Wendy and started reading. I would even go so far as to say that I prefer the film to the book. However, part of me wishes that the age rating had been set much higher, as the dark and gruesome moments were some of the strongest parts of the film adaptation. This is possibly why some critics and viewers had difficulty categorising the film at the time.

However, I often consider P.J.Hogan’s Peter Pan to be the same equivalent as Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice. (which came out a few years later in 2005, starring Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen). The film moves at the same dreamlike pace. It is light, dark, colourful and deeply romantic.

I also often prefer P.J.Hogan’s Peter Pan to the 1953 Disney Animation of the same name, even though it’s the version I grew up with and liked. I find it much less straightforward and innocent. Also, the 2003 film is much closer to the original source material, which I loved reading as a teenager, and to J.M.Barrie’s original vision. The film manages to reflect the same intellectual subtext and depth of the novel while retaining the whimsy and magic.

Magical Realism

Peter Pan was a perfect blend of fantasy and realism. A lot of media these days focus too much on “realism” and make their sets and CGI look bland and washed out. It’s a common myth these days that no one likes whimsy anymore; it’s somehow seen as too childish. As a result, much of the magic of fantasy is lost. But in this Peter Pan, a lot of colour was used in the set design and cinematography. Everything was so brightly and colourfully lit. Most fantasy films these days, including the new live-action adaptation of Peter Pan and Wendy on Disney+, are all so gloomy and dark. You almost have to light up the screen to make out the actors’ facial expressions or what’s happening in the scene. But this film understands that a viewer who watches fantasy wants to be swept away, but also wants a certain amount of believability. Although the film contained a good amount of darkness, it did not shy away from being cartoonish either (which I think was partly inspired by the Disney animation), i.e. characters blushing or bouncing on the clouds.

The design of Neverland was breathtaking. I think the CGI, although criticised by some, made the island and creatures look more dreamy and fairytale-like. It was a good combination of CGI for the landscapes and real backdrops for the jungle, so there was enough magic and believability to transport the viewer into the story. A bright colour palette was used for the landscapes, while down-to-earth colours such as browns and greens were used on the ground, such as in “The Lost Boys Hide” under the tree, to give a sense of realism. The costume department also reflected this, from the majestic reds and blacks of the pirates, to the earthly colours of blue and red for the Native Americans, to the natural greens and browns of the Lost boys. I noticed that the colours in Neverland were used as a contrast to the Edwardian London back home, which is realistic but dull compared to the island.

One aspect I liked was that the lighting on Neverland always changed depending on the mood of the scene- unlike the naturalistic lighting on Earth. It was almost as if the island was a living being. For example, when there was a fight on the ship, the lighting was red. When Peter took Wendy to the mermaids, who were scary and frightening, the lighting was dark and blue. This created a surrealistic atmosphere, almost like a fever dream or a kind of nightmare.

Sometimes the environment changed depending on Peter Pan’s mood in the respective scene. I particularly liked how Peter Pan influenced the weather on Neverland. Just his mere presence when he flew to the island changed the entire atmosphere in an instant. His feelings also determined whether it was summer or winter. In other words, its suggested in the film that the longer he has been there, the more the island has become a part of him, so that he can no longer leave it. It’s almost as if the island has transformed him into a magical being.

The exuberant musical score by James Newton Howard: I’ll never forget that. I think that was one of the first movies I saw where I actively noticed the music because it was so brilliant. Even today, the “Flying” soundtrack still gives me goosebumps. It perfectly encapsulates the whimsy, joy and imagination of Peter and Wendy. I loved that there were always different variations. One of my favourite pieces from the movie is ‘Fairy Dance’, which starts off cheerfully and moves up and down depending on the characters’ conflict/what they’re saying in the scene.

Cast

The cast of this film adaptation was magnificent. The look of all the actors not only matched the book description, but also the mood, especially with the Darling family. One of the standouts was Olivia Williams as Mrs Darling. She captured the gentleness of the character perfectly. I also loved the new addition of Aunt Millicent, played by Lynn Redgrave. She fitted into the story so well that I was surprised not to find her in the novel. She had the perfect amount of ridiculousness and hilarity that suited J.M.Barrie’s style.

One particular member of the cast we can probably all agree on that was perfect, was Jason Isaacs, who played both Wendy’s father Mr Darling and Captain Hook. He was certainly a star in this film for sure. I just can not think of anyone who could play him better, especially in a live-action film adaptation. He was particularly good in the role of Captain Hook. When I first saw the film as a child, I did not know that Captain Hook and Mr Darling were played by the same person until my dad pointed it out to me because he was so good. I loved how they portrayed Wendy’s dad as shy and reserved, as opposed to Captain Hook who was flamboyant and sinister. Mirror versions of each other in different realities — that’s a common theme throughout the film. As Captain Hook, Jason Isaacs perfectly captured the essence of viciousness, deviousness and brutality that was necessary for the character. But also the deep loneliness and frustration behind it all. I have seen a quote that was supposedly cut from the film (and never should have been) that provides so much context for his hatred of Peter Pan:

“Imagine a lion in a cage and into that cage flies a butterfly. If the lion was free, it would pay no heed to such creature. But the lion is not free…and so the butterfly drives him slowly insane.” — Captain Hook

They did a really good job of showing how Peter Pan and Captain Hook are mirror images of each other. Peter Pan is a child who secretly wants to be an adult, while Captain Hook is an adult who secretly wants to be a child. Both fight each other for different reasons, but the goal is the same. For example, there is a great scene towards the end where Captain Hook uses his wits to defeat Peter in a fight. Here it becomes clear that there is deep symbolism for the inevitability of adulthood and the loss of childhood. Jason Isaacs really showed off his acting talent here. I liked that he wasn’t portrayed as a “dumb villain”, which he easily could have been.

There were also some great performances among the adults. Most notable was Richard Briers as the ‘pirate’’ Smee. But the child actors, especially the lost boys, really held the movie together. Their solid performances made it so believable that the island was ruled by children. I loved Theodore Chester as Slightly. He was very charming and funny in that role.

Another member of the cast I thought was brilliant was Carsen Grey, an indigenous actress of Haida descent, who played Princess Tiger Lily. I liked that they let her speak her ancestral language, Mohican, in this film. Although this film came out in the early 2000s, it is the only version of Peter and Wendy in which Native Americans are neither erased nor white-washed even though the representation is far from great. Considering how they’re treated in the novel, it’s perhaps for the best overall that they limited some of their scenes. However, I liked how firey she was in this adaptation and not the damsel in distress she was portrayed as in the Disney animation. I think it was a wise decision to cut the infatuation she had with Peter Pan, as it was really just one line in the book that would have added unnecessary drama, and all in all, it would have fallen short if all the female characters were jealous of each other.

They also downplayed Tinkerbell’s jealousy in this regard, portraying it more as her trying to protect Peter Pan’s youth from romantic advances, as hinted at in the novel, and also being sad that Wendy is attracting all of Peter Pan’s attention. Ludivine Sagnier has, in my opinion, succeeded well in making Tinkerbell equally repulsive and endearing, as befits the character.

Wendy Darling

Rachel Hurd-Wood was the perfect cast for the role of Wendy Darling.I was actually surprised to learn that this was her first film role ever, because she was a natural. She effortlessly possessed the same caring nature and charm that makes Wendy so endearing. She is exactly how I imagine the character when I read the story. When people talk about Peter and Wendy, they always mention Tinkerbell, Pan or Hook, but personally I am always drawn to Wendy. She is the real heroine of the story. After all, she was the main reason for Peter to bring her and her brothers to Neverland.

What always amazes me about Wendy’s role in the story is the fact that Wendy literally doesn’t spend much time being a “child” in the time she spends in Neverland. When she’s not escaping death at the hands of mermaids or pirates, she acts as a mother to the ‘lost boys’ and her brothers. She asks herself what she really wants from life. In comparison, she was allowed to behave more like a child at home in Edwardian London. Neverland is not a place where you never grow up. It’s the place where she chooses to grow up. Many people have described Neverland as a manifestation of Wendy’s subconscious as a result of trauma, and I’ve never found that to be more true in this adaptation.

One of the reasons why I think P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan is the best adaptation of the novel is the fact that the film revolves around Wendy’s coming of age. I loved that they expanded on her love of storytelling and also gave her a tomboyish streak. Instead of just being on the sidelines, she’s able to get involved and fight pirates while retaining many of her feminine traits such as her maternal instincts and romantic feelings for Peter. She makes mistakes and sometimes gets dragged into things she knows she shouldn’t do. But in the end, she triumphs.

In many film adaptations of Peter and Wendy that I have seen, Wendy is either only present in passing or not at all. Characters like Peter Pan, Captain Hook and Tinkerbell always take centre stage, which I think is a strange decision as they are part of Wendy’s story and not the other way around. Peter Pan is meant to metaphorically represent the childhood she does not want to give up (which is why the character is always played by a woman in the original play, as he is a mirror image of Wendy). And Captain Hook (J.M.Barrie also wanted him to be played by the same actor as Mr Darling) represents the dark side of her father, or rather what she imagines adulthood to be. This is particularly emphasised in this film adaptation because he is an important factor in her being told to grow up. The father, the concept of adulthood, and Peter Pan, her childhood, are at constant war with each other.

“You’re not supposed to be like Peter, who kept every good and bad aspect of being a child and can’t tell right from wrong. You’re not supposed to be Hook, either. He let go of everything childish and loving about him and became bitter and evil..You’re supposed to fall in the middle, to hold onto the things about childhood that make it beautiful — the wonder, the imagination, the innocence — while still growing up and learning morality and responsibility. You’re not supposed to be Hook. You’re not supposed to be Peter Pan. You’re supposed to be Wendy Darling.” — @maybe-this-time

The 2023 film Peter Pan and Wendy took a different approach, by making Wendy a kind of powerhouse who always saved the day and outshone Peter Pan overall. In my opinion, the 2003 film adaptation emphasised very well that Wendy really is the yin and yang. She's allowed to be romantic, be rescued by others and at the same time determine her own destiny and stand up for herself. Because that’s what her journey in the adaptation is all about. She is pressured by all the adults in her life to grow up. She allows herself to be seduced with the prospect of an eternal childhood by Peter Pan. Then she realises that it is not self-fulfilling. She is tempted by Captain Hook with the concept of adulthood. And finally, she finds a balance between these two extremes on her own terms. By the end of the film, Wendy has made her peace with growing up while still remaining a child at heart. That requires a certain mental strength that we should all strive for.

Peter Pan and Wendy Darling

In most adaptations of Peter and Wendy, such as Hook and Syfy’s Neverland, the focus is on the title character Peter. In the more recent film adaptation Peter Pan and Wendy, the focus is on Wendy. This film adaptation of Peter and Wendy, on the other hand, sticks more closely to the original source material, as the story focuses on Peter and Wendy’s relationship. This is perhaps the reason why I always hesitate when I watch other adaptations, because these two characters are supposed to go together. It’s definitely a relationship that can be portrayed in all sorts of ways because they are symbolically the same person.

Although there is no romance between Peter and Wendy in either the original novel or the play, Wendy quickly develops romantic feelings for Peter which, as a prepubescent child, he does not consciously reciprocate as he has no concept of love other than that of a mother’s. Although Peter cares deeply for her, he ultimately only longs for her to be the maternal figure that is missing in his life. One could go into the symbolism that Peter and Wendy are one and the same, and that this is an expression of Wendy learning to love herself. But in a literal sense, J.M.Barrie had unintentionally created this very strong potential between the two characters. And I personally feel if your'e going to make an adaptation of Peter and Wendy that potential needs to be explored in some way, even if it’s not necessarily romantic.

Hogan recognised this potential and developed the romantic elements, e.g. ‘the “thimble” from the novel, into a very real and tangible plot. In other adaptations, Peter and Wendy’s relationship is rather one-sided. But in P.J. Hogan’s film adaptation, however, it is not at all. Over the course of the film, Peter and Wendy fall deeply in love with each other.

Rachel Hurd-Wood and Jeremy Sumpter had a remarkable on-screen chemistry for young actors, which helped give the adaptation its own identity. Whenever they interacted on screen as Peter and Wendy, it was — like the glittering pixie dust of Tinkerbell — simply magical. The off-screen chemistry between the two definitely helped make the romance so believable as well. When I was younger, I didn’t like romantic subplots in family films. I personally found that they clogged up the main plot because the “romance” tended to be very one-dimensional- but Peter and Wendy in the 2003 film version were simply enchanting.

In the original novel, J.M.Barrie alludes to the possibility of a romance between the two. In the film adaptation, they go all out. Their love story was written so beautifully and profoundly, while staying true to the original text and J.M.Barrie’s themes. This made the conflict hinted at in the novel of “staying in Neverland with Peter or growing up on Earth with Wendy” even more poignant and relevant, because in reality there was only ever one option. They couldn’t find a way to have both. That made the ending even more “heartbreaking” for me as a child, because even though they had the chance to be happy together, she couldn’t give up on growing up to stay. And he couldn’t give up being a child to leave, even though it was a natural progression for him.

Peter Pan

Jeremy Sumpter delivered a fantastic performance as Peter Pan. Not only did he perfectly match the illustrations, but he also managed to perfectly capture the essence of the charismatic, mischievous little boy from the novel. What’s more, of all the versions I have seen so far, he is by far the most accurate, right down to the clothes made of skeleton leaves, the dirty fingernails, the feral mannerisms, the traumatised soul behind the charm and the downright creepy insinuations. By today’s standards, you could almost take Peter Pan for a grown man who consciously decides not to behave like this.

However, when I watch the film again as an adult, I can now understand why he has reservations about growing up in Edwardian England and would rather remain a “child” in Neverland forever. As Peter says in the film, “Would they send me to school? And then to an office?” I feel like most of us today have so many choices as we get older, but back then it was much more limited. The choices were very restricted in that “heterosexist” environment. You could only be a certain thing, and it was much harder to hold on to the pleasures of life. I can now also understand the initial reactions of Michael and John to Peter: He must have seemed scandalous to people at the time. His bright colours, his inappropriate clothing and his behaviour are repulsive to the boys, but Wendy is immediately fascinated and attracted. I think it was a deliberate choice that he is the only character with an American accent to set him apart from the rest of the cast; to emphasise the wildness of the character and his non-conformity to the people of Edwardian London.

Another small aspect I liked was the suggestion that the Lost Boys, although they lived with Peter and obeyed his commands, lived in constant fear of him and did not worship him as in other adaptations. (A fear that is justified as Peter tries to kill them more than once in the film). What the 2003 film adaptation captured perfectly about Peter's character was: how terrible of a person he really is. Peter Pan is a hero when he goes on adventures and fights pirates. You could argue — via the quote “Leave Hook to me” (which Peter says to her in the film) — that Peter is Wendy’s split self who can fight her father (Captain Hook) for her, just like antibodies do with germs when we can’t handle them ourselves.

However, when it comes to understanding emotions, caring about others, even his henchmen, the Lost Boys, and doing anything that inconveniences him, Peter Pan is possibly as bad as Captain Hook. This makes Wendy’s decision to leave him all the more powerful. Although she was initially seduced by his adventurous life, she soon realises that his “life” of joy and adventure is not fulfilling at all. Because in reality, there is no real joy. There is no real adventure. In reality, his life is empty because it is not earned. In addition, she realises that she is gradually losing her memory of the outside world, including her parents - a sign that she is “slowly awakening from the dream”. This leads Wendy to realise that she wants more than what he can give her in Neverland (e.g. romantic love) and decides to leave. Being alive means feeling, accepting and growing. However, as long as Peter remains a boy, he can never truly be alive. Peter Pan conveyed this important message, whereas earlier film adaptations, including the Disney animation, did not.

One of the reasons why good adaptations of Peter and Wendy are so hard to come by, especially in this day and age, is not only because they adapt a performative story that exists in layers of subtext. They also work with a protagonist who doesn’t change. Who doesn’t develop in any way, neither negatively nor positively. Not even just physically, but also mentally. (Even Eli from Let the Right One In, the child vampire, changes in the course of the story). At the end of day, Peter Pan is ultimately there to serve someone else’s story. It works in a fairy tale format. But it doesn’t usually translate very well to the screen because it often leads to one-dimensional storytelling. Even if it seems so natural, it doesn’t come naturally.

However, this adaptation allows Peter Pan to grow. The writers expanded on the small aspect from the book, which is the moment when Wendy enters Peter’s life; he begins to feel emotions. Not just love. But anger. Fear. Sadness. Pain. Disgust. And above all: self-awareness. Almost like a version of puberty in condensed time, as if the change suddenly caught up with his body. When Wendy brings this up, Peter immediately rejects it out of fear. I think most of us can all relate to this when we were in the midst of growing into a young adult. We experience feelings that are scary and new, that we can’t yet fully understand or even want to. For Peter Pan, falling in love is exactly what he is afraid of: growing up and no longer being a child. This adds to an interesting conflict that arises between the two when she asks him to leave with her.

“The thing about Peter Pan is, he’s a coward. Had the chance of a lifetime and he bottled it. Just fucked off back to Neverland. All alone, forever he was, by his own hand. Poor old Wendy, she had to grow old without him.” — Skins, 6x07 “Alo”

In the original novel, the reason Wendy can’t take Peter Pan with her (apart from the fact that he refuses to grow up) is the same reason Lyra in His Dark Materials can’t take Pan — the animal manifestation of her soul — on the boat to the land of the dead. She has to split in order to grow up and leave a part of herself behind. She can’t keep both in order to move on. But that does not mean I always agree with the ending either. In which Peter remains a child and takes Wendy’s future descendants to Neverland and back to look after him. It leaves an icky aftertaste, but at least it fits in with the story J.M. Barrie wanted to tell.

Even though the adaptation conveys the same message, that Peter Pan is the manifestation of Wendy’s youth, even to the end. In this version of Peter Pan, that is no longer the case. By the end of the film, the way he holds himself is different. The way he looks wistfully through the open window and solemnly says, “To live would be an awfully big adventure,” : a sign of self-awareness, while Wendy happily reunites with her family. So much so that Tinkerbell has to pull him by the hair to stop him from joining them and reconsidering his decision. Peter is now old enough to know that he loves Wendy. Maybe he’s also mature enough to know what he’s missing, but he knows he can’t have her the way he wants, so he does the most selfless thing he’s ever done in the whole film by letting her go.

There is no such conflict at the end of the 1953 Disney animated film. Peter Pan is described by Wendy as “wonderful”. In reality, everyone else gets their happy ending, except him, because he deliberately chooses not to. Peter Pan very much turns himself into a tragic figure because he is afraid of the most natural thing in the world. He is afraid of life. And I feel like this version of the story knew that and expressed it strongly, which makes me conflicted now as an adult. I’ve seen endings like this before, where two people fall in love but do not end up together because they grow apart or they are both interested in different things, and it’s very important to reach those points in different ways. It very much reflects real life and is also reminiscent of first love. How that love never really fades. It reminds you of simple times, even when you’ve grown up and moved on. That a part of you is still at that age when you look back on it. These endings happen because people grow — which Peter Pan does not.

“Peter in the books lives in oblivious tragedy. He may suspect that he’s not fully happy, but he tends to forget about it… yet this Peter doesn’t… Wendy leaving him and growing up to be a wife of another man is his unhappy thought…It’s the loss of innocence since Peter could not forget this…It’s the process of growing up…all but confirms that Peter’s character arc in the film is one of accepting the fact he too must grow up to be happy.” — @rex-shadao

And I think that’s the real reason why his character is both the strongest and the weakest part of the adaptation. The writers didn’t make it clear enough that Peter Pan forgets in their version of the character. In the novel, Peter Pan forgets everything automatically, which is why he can exist in this limbo of childhood and not go mad. However, as mentioned earlier, this version of Peter Pan is old enough to remember and, more importantly, to feel. Even though he is the closest to J.M. Barrie’s original vision, unlike his counterpart in the book, he is capable of evolving. That’s why the ending sometimes feels strange to me as an adult.

It was hard to say why I had a strange feeling at first, but I realised that a lot of my mixed feelings stemmed from having seen the film adaptation fresh after reading the novel. Since Peter Pan fully reciprocates Wendy’s love in this version, he ends up being a different character than in the book, which is why I now disagree with them keeping the original ending instead of having him grow up with Wendy. It would symbolise that childhood can co-exist with adulthood, that you don’t have to leave a part of yourself behind. That you can be your true and complete self if you find the balance between the two extremes.

The original ending still works however, in all its bittersweetness. I know what it means and understand what it stands for. Wendy basically says goodbye to her childhood and promises never to forget it. There’s a reason it made such an impression on me when I was younger. It could just be because I’m trying to pick up all the pieces of my broken heart from the floor. But personally, as an adult, I just find it weaker compared to the novel. Sometimes I like to imagine an ending to this version of the story where Peter Pan comes back, having quickly realised that he has outgrown Neverland, but doesn’t meet Wendy again until they are both much older, at a time when Wendy is coming to terms with womanhood and the idea of marriage. Or she even meets his real earth counterpart (if we were to delve into the psychology of Neverland being Wendy’s dream). And their relationship is subjected to the natural test of time and growth.

Peter Pan is an almost perfect adaptation. It matches the humour, the tone and the vision of J.M.Barrie. But I can certainly understand why the film didn’t do so well at the box office. In the month it was released, there was an unfair amount of competition, namely the film Lord of the Rings — The Return of the King. And as an adult, I can now understand why it’s not the film people think of or remember when it comes to Peter Pan adaptations. And it’s not just because it doesn’t fit the elfish, jolly trickster persona that Disney has created.

The film adaptation suffers more from what it doesn’t do — such as maintaining a stable tone and consistent editing — than from what it does. It’s one of those films that would have benefited from being much longer. That way, the inconsistent tone and some of the rushed parts of the adaptation would be much more balanced. It feels like it was missing an extra twenty minutes. For example, the film is narrated by an older version of Wendy, but without the deleted ending where it becomes properly clear that it’s her telling the story to tie everything together, the ending feels a little abrupt. Say what you will about Tim Burton’s adaptation of the Series of Unfortunate Events, but the audience could see where the film’s narration was coming from the whole time. I think if they knew the alternate ending wasn’t going to work (that scene is a classic example of something working well in the novel but not in the film), they should have removed the narrator altogether with the deleted ending and adjusted the film accordingly. They should have extended some scenes so that parts of the film weren’t rushed, such as the introduction, and the story would have been left more up to interpretation as there was no voiceover throughout.

Despite its weaknesses, P.J.Hogan’s Peter Pan is still an underrated masterpiece 20 years later. It is an irresistible film that captivates and warms the heart. The film adaptation has certainly stood the test of time, staying true to the original while adding its own flavour to the story. It is full of magic, wonder and heart. It was clearly made by people who loved the origins of the story and explored where they came from, while also digging deep into the text to reshape the character arcs in a fresh and meaningful way. They succeed in capturing J.M.Barrie’s original message, which is that growing up is a natural progression of life, but that doesn’t mean leaving childhood behind entirely. That it is important to maintain a healthy balance between the two: Taking responsibility while appreciating the joys of life. From the vibrant colour palette to the goosebump-inducing music to the solid performances and gorgeous chemistry between Jeremy Sumpter and Rachel Hurd-Wood, my love for this adaptation will never end, no matter how old I am.

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skylarsblue · 1 month

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★Sugar Cube★

★Red Dead Redemption★ ★Fem!Reader cause I was having a fem! day, use of Y/N(sorry), fluff, a tiny bit of hurt/comfort at the end, silly drunk Arthur at the start, I don't think there's sexual tension here but I could be wrong. The autism has overtaken me and he is all I think about, the depression wave is only kept at bay by this man.★ ★The border in the story is @fairytopea 's, if you'd like me to remove it I will :3★

The world rocked back and forth, a haze over the rolling fields of grass. Arthur slumped his head down a bit, looking at trees passing by. He had to be running, he was pretty sure walking didn’t make the world move so fast. This speed was extraordinary! Since when could he run so fast? He used to be quick in his youth, but nearing forty, his knees had really aged poorly. But here he was, zipping down a dirt road with agility, wind blowing past his face. With such grace too. Then, suddenly a bump, and he felt himself tilt dramatically to the side. Two long blinks and horse hooves hitting the ground came to his ears. He looked forward, seeing his trusty steed he’d been bonding with the past week dodging a tree to continue up the path. Arthur groaned a little and pulled himself right, then he leaned forward, weighed down by his own head. It was bumpy, but he rested his cheek on the horse’s neck, humming in a moment of peace when feeling the horse’s fur rubbed against his stubble. It was soft and warm. He always liked that about horses.

“Heheh, nice horsey.” He slurred, patting the horse’s side. It snorted, slowing down to a prance as the trees became thicker. Arthur continued petting the horse’s fur when it occurred to him that he was saying ‘it’. “Ah you’re not some random horse. Nah nah, I named you, right? Uh…what was it…” He mumbled, looking at the light brown color of the Clydesdale horse. A dusty color. Arthur gasped, a bit choked by his own saliva. “Dusty! That’s what I named ya! Ahh, Dusty you’re the best horse this side o’ the country.” He laid against her again, listening to her snort again, which made him let out a fit of giggles. Deep, short laughs that erupted from his chest. He looked around at the trees, and despite his fuzzy brain, he was able to pick out a landmark.

“Buh, camp. They're gonna make me go do some…stupid…tedious chore or somethin’.” The honey-brown haired man pouted. He huffed out a breath as Dusty went under a broken, spiky tree, approaching a lantern lit spot full of tents. The sun was setting. Dusty stomped past the horse ties and more toward the middle of the camp, catching the attention of some of the gang.

“Arthur Morgan, what the hell are you doin’?!”

Arthur winced at the shrill yell. He blinked slowly, looking in its direction, finding Miss O’Shea stood with her hands situated on her hips and a scowl ever present. He sat up slowly, hands grabbing the saddle so he wouldn’t fall, given how wobbly he was. “Heeyyy, Miss O’Sheaaa. Evenin’.” He nodded, though his head didn’t really come up afterward. The woman scoffed and tossed her hands up in exasperation, falling back to her sides with a smack sound. Lenny snickered from his place at the table. “You have fun at the saloon, Morgan?!” Javiar shouted to him. The man nodded again. The men laughed as O’Shea yelled for him to get down. He almost did until she called him a moron.

“‘Ey! I ain’t no moron! I’m quite smart, I’ll have you know.” He pointed, only for the loss of a stability point to send him leaning forward again. Dusty brayed as he landed against her neck once more. Arthur heard some more laughs from the picnic table but he didn’t open his eyes again. “Arthur Morgan, get your sorry ass off the horse.” She said again, and Arthur replied with a discontent grunt. “‘er name is Dusty, first o’ all. And two, no. Cause you called me a moron.” He replied defiantly, ending his sentence with a small hiccup. O’Shea blinked in awe at the utter sass as Arthur flipped his head over to keep from looking at her.

“Dutch, will you get your boy?” She motioned at the horse. Dutch chuckled around his cigar and held up his hands. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me? He’s a brat when he’s drunk.” He shrugged.

“Who’s drunk?” A sweetened voice asked. Walking around a tent with a bucket of water settled on her hip. “Arthur’s bein’ a brat.” Miss O’Shea huffed. Y/N set the bucket down and looked toward the horse, watching the rough and steely outlaw hum a tune while petting his companion, giggling quietly to himself when Dusty stamped a hoof into the ground and huffed. She laughed quietly behind her hand, watching him hug Dusty and mutter slurred praises. “Ah, I see, he’s drunk.” She nodded. “Drunk and ornery. We need him somewhat put together by tomorrow, so he needs to sleep this off, but the moron won’t get off the damn horse!” O’Shea shouted back at him. “Dusty!” He called back, more concerned about the respect to his horse than himself. Y/N giggled and shook her head. “You’re never gonna get him to listen with all that hollerin’. The way to get a stubborn boy to listen is to sweet talk’im. Lemme try.” She patted O’Shea on the shoulder before walking up to the Clydesdale.

“Arthur, hun, can ya look at me?” She asked. In an instant, he turned his head to look at her, and a goofy grin appeared across his face. “Heyyy, how’re you?” He asked. Y/N smiled up at him, feeling a sense of fondness bursting in her chest. She’d always been fond of Arthur, perhaps to the point of blatant favoritism. She didn’t really hide it either. While she might’ve been generally kind and helpful to the gang as a whole, it wasn’t hard to see when she gave him special treatment. When washing or fixing clothes, she’d take his without him asking, while she’d put up some resistance with the rest. When a petty argument broke out between him and someone else, she’d only really get onto the other party for saying something untoward, while Arthur’d get something half-heartedly scolding. “Let’s try to keep the peace, m’kay? Why don’t’cha go sit down and relax?” While someone like Micha got chewed up like a dog with a bone. Though, honestly, Micha probably had it coming most of the time.

She never outright denied her general adoration for the man, though she never explained it either. Maybe it was because he’d been the one to find her, help her out of the mess she’d been in. Or maybe it was because he was so helpful to her, to everyone. Or, perhaps, she just thought he was pretty. Could’ve been all of the above, really.

“I’m doin’ fine. You look like you could be doin’ better.” Y/N replied. He waved a hand with a light-hearted scoff. “Nah I’m fiiinne.” He went to get off the horse, dismounting with a wobble. He held his hands out in front of him to catch himself, and she readied to catch him if he went backwards instead, even if he was probably too heavy for her to carry. Thankfully, he stood upright, and pivoted with a smile. “See? Fine.” He said, as if he’d actually proven something. Y/N tilted her head and fought off some giggles, unlike the men at the table watching it all. “Sure, Arthur. How bout we get you lied down, hm?” She suggested, gently resting her hand on his arm to help keep him steady. Arthur shook his head and waved his hand dismissively again.

“Naaah nah, y’all got work to finish, I should help.” He said. Y/N sighed, her free hand coming to rest on her hip. O’Shea rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I told you. Ain’t got no sense when he’s drunk.” The woman complained. Y/N held up a hand, silently telling her to settle down and give her a moment. If there was one thing Arthur was, it was a real bitter life. All iron and blood-soaked palms, tarnished leather and black coffee. It was how he’d been raised, and while it wasn’t something he’d grown to dislike, something being familiar didn’t necessarily make it pleasant. Y/N had seen peeks of something softer.

How tender his voice was when calming a horse, or how careful his lines were when he sketched a landscape, and how gentle his gaze got when left with a moment of peace. All these little moments of softness to help some part of him to stay alive, keep himself from turning into nothing but a selfish, shallow husk. But keeping it alive on his own had to be tough. Y/N had always been the caring type, even when it got her into dangerous situations. She’d grown less naive, but not less sensitive, and that need to let life flourish was something she held onto dearly. Be it a garden or a man who probably hadn’t had a hug in Lord knows how long.

“I think it’s real nice you wanna help, but ain’t you been doin’ a lot recently?” Y/N asked. Her voice was softer, sweeter, and it caught Arthur’s attention almost immediately. “Uh, well…” He trailed off and leaned into her hand, now giving a gentle squeeze to the tense muscle of his shoulder. “All that runnin’ ‘round, pickin’ up the slack. All kinds of stuff you barely got thanked for. Don’t’cha deserve a little rest? Even just a nap?” She asked. His shoulders loosened the more she spoke, like he was being lulled to sleep with a lullaby.

The blue eyed man hummed quietly, then began to nod slowly. “Yeah…Yeah I do a lot, don’t I? I guess a lil rest wouldn’t hurt.” He mumbled. Y/N smiled and slid her hand down to his, holding it carefully, despite the rough calluses and scars. With a cautious pull, she began to lead him, stumbling toward his tent. “I think you’re exactly right. So why don’t we get you situated for bed, hm? Maybe I’ll talk Dutch into gettin’ you some extra hours in the mornin’.” She said. With a look over her shoulder, she grinned proudly at the onlookers. That being the boys at the table, Dutch, and Miss O’Shea. All either with smiles of their own or agape mouths. She snickered before turning her attention back to Arthur, helping him duck into his tent and meander up to his cot.

He sat down with a grunt. “There ya go, ain’t that nicer than standin’?” She asked, reaching to remove his hat from his head. Arthur gave a noncommittal noise back, blinking slowly, trying to remove the haze in his vision. He was very sleepy all of a sudden, and his limbs felt oddly heavy. After dusting some dirt from his hat and setting it down, she pushed the strands of hair that’d fallen in his face out of the way. His hair had grown a bit, starting to reach the lower part of his neck. He let out a shaky exhale when her nails dragged over his scalp, and the sound brought a sorrowful feeling to her heart. It was something so small and quick, and yet it had such an effect. She hesitated to pull her hand back, playing it off as her fixing his hair a bit more as he fought to stay awake. “How bout we get you ready for bed, hm?” Y/N whispered. He peeked up at her, eyelids heavy and barely open to gaze at her features. Even in the dark her face made him feel warm, fuzzy, much like the alcohol he’d imbibed. He gave her a slow nod, yawning as she untied the handkerchief from around his neck. He helped the best he could, using the toe of his right boot to kick off the left one, then repeated the process for the other one. “Think you can manage your belt, hun?” She asked. He looked down at the golden buckle, as if actually considering if he could manage it, before he nodded and gave an affirmative grunt. She laughed under her breath as he struggled for a moment, picking up his boots in order to move them aside, lest he trip over them in the morning.

He managed, with a mild struggle, to get his belt undone and off. She took it from him and set it aside, being sure to remove his gun. He always kept it beside his bed or under his pillow, and she was going to honor that personal rule. “You need anything else, sweetheart?” Y/N asked, approaching him once again. She stood in front of him, close enough to touch, though his hands remained in his lap. She was dimly lit by a burning lantern in the far corner, running low on oil. His head felt heavy, but he forced his chin upward to look at her more. He opened his mouth, though words didn’t leave it. She smiled so sweetly, tucking his bangs back, watching him melt under it.

“Poor thing, all rusty steel and splitterin’ wood, ain’t no one takin’ care of you. You gotta be exhausted.” She said, letting his chin fall into her palm, supporting the weight for him, much to his endearment. He closed his eyes as she stroked his cheek with her thumb, undeterred by the roughness of his stubble. “Ain’t ever been rich enough for sugar.” He grumbled, words still a bit garbled, tongue tied from liquor. She clicked her tongue sympathetically. He unintentionally leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest on her sternum. She shifted her positioning for him to be more comfortable, hands coming up to the back of his head and neck. He just about groaned when she lightly scratched his scalp, and oh how delighted she felt at it. Though how much he’d been deprived of this hurt her heart, the fact he was letting her make up for it felt all the nicer. She’d take bittersweet as a middle ground.

“Arthur.” She cooed his name, getting a grunt in response. She moved her hands to help him tilt his head up to look at her, met with a sleepy gaze, black pupils overtaking the blue she’d come to favor. “Tell ya what,” She began. “Whenever you get sick of the bitter world, and you want a little break, you come tell me. You can get all the sugar ya want, ‘kay? Everyone deserves a little sweetness here and there.” She offered. He stared at her, limp in relaxation. He hummed. “Ya sure?” He asked, feeling her gently guide him off of her and down to the bed. She propped his head on the pillow, putting his hands over his torso. “Mhm, absolutely positive.” She affirmed, covering him with the quilt rolled up at the end of the bed. She gave him another scratch to his temple, seeing as he liked it so much. His eyes fluttered closed, sighing. “Mm, alrighty, I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied, words hushed. “Good, now get some rest, cowboy. You’re gonna need it.” She cooed again. He was out quickly, allowing her to admire him for a moment. He was plastered, she doubted he’d remember any of the conversation they’d just had. But she wouldn’t mind repeating it to him anyway, since she meant it wholeheartedly. Perhaps a little selfishly, she pecked his forehead before leaving his tent, not missing the unconscious smile it got from him.

He hadn’t forgotten. Not the core parts of the night, anyway. Even when he’d woken up with a blasting headache thumping behind his eyes, trying to piece together everything. He remembered the majority of her words, and he couldn’t forget the feeling of her warmth, and the delicate way she spoke. And it humiliated him for the entire morning, but even when he was visibly ashamed she was sweet.

He’d sat up on his cot and put his head in his hands, grumbling to himself about how stupid he was. Flushed across his cheeks and up to his ears. Maybe if he asked John to help him, he could dig a hole and bury himself in it, the man owed him anyway. He called himself a fool, only to hear a giggle that forced his heart to a stop. With a wince, he glanced to the side between his fingers. Of course, there she stood, illuminated by the morning sun, holding a steaming cup of coffee. “A foolish decision doesn’t necessarily make a fool, Mr.Morgan. It’s several foolish decisions that make a pattern, then, that makes a fool.” She said, stepping into the tent. He slid his hands off his face and hesitantly took the cup she held out to him. She was trying to make him feel better, he knew that, and damn it worked.

“How’s your head feelin’, cowboy?” Y/N asked. He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He could feel his heartbeat in the sockets, and the sunlight certainly wasn’t helping. He heard her chuckle as he sipped at the drink. It’s warmth nothing compared to hers, and shamefully, he wished to feel the heat of her palm on his face again, sober this time. “Asked Charles to grab some tea when he and Hosea had into town today, always helped me with headaches when I had it. I’ll make you a lil if it doesn’t settle soon.” She promised. He thanked her quietly, feeling her pat his shoulder. His tongue felt like metal in his mouth, weighing down the words he needed to use. He swallowed as she pivoted to leave, and he felt his chest tighten as she did.

Y/N paused when he coughed a little too poignantly. She looked over her shoulder, finding him fidgety and shy as he looked at the ground. “Yes, Arthur?” She asked, turning to look at him again. How sweet it was when he could only manage a quick glance before his cheeks flushed again. “I uh, ahem, last night…” He started, bouncing his leg slightly. She nodded and motioned for him to continue. He took in a deep breath. “You uh, you offered uhm…” He was so bad at words, it was one of his many faults. Either he spoke before he thought, or he used the wrong word and messed up the entire sentence, or he’d choke on whatever he wanted to say and they’d get sick of waiting, making him lose an opportunity. She had patience though, and let out another breathy laugh. Fond and kind, not mocking.

“I offered you sugar, yes. I said you could ask, whenever ya wanted, and I wouldn’t mind.” Y/N reiterated. He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at the coffee in the little mug in his other hand. “So, uh, does that offer-” “It still applies when you’re sober, mister. Don’t worry.” She confirmed. Arthur swallowed. It felt like syrup, thick and encompassing, making him sluggish. He was still aware of the spiking pain in his skull, and while he knew it was his own fault, he would’ve loved relief. Even if he didn’t deserve it, to feel her nails gently pet at his head again sounded like heaven. He was a man of pride, and as mean as he could be, all rough and guarded, he still had a boyish sense of timidness when asking for something so nice. But she offered, and he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance. He’d been told before he needed to get better at knowing when he waited too long, and when he went too quick. Now, he hoped he was picking right.

“I uh…this coffee’s kinda harsh.” He held up the cup a little awkwardly. Y/N blinked before her expression softened, and he felt like ice under the heat of a fire as she walked back to him slowly. “That right?” She asked. Arthur cleared his throat and nodded. “Little harsh on the headache ‘s all.” He replied quietly. She tilted her head before her hand rose up, finding its place on his temple. With a little pressure from her thumb, she rubbed small circles, and it helped ease the ache. “So you’d prefer somethin’ a little sweeter, huh?” She asked. His shoulders loosened, and like the night before, his eyelids grew heavy. He nodded slowly, sighing when she lightly scratched at his scalp. “I got’cha.” She whispered, using both her hands to help combat the headache, even rubbing around his eyes, where it hurt the most. At this rate, he might not even need the tea she’d offered. However long she stood there, he relished all of it, the coffee growing colder by the second. When her hands finally stopped, coming to rest on his shoulders, his headache hadn’t vanished but was far more tolerable.

“How’re you feelin’?” She asked. Arthur stared up at her sleepily, face lax, and if you’d asked her, she’d say he seemed drunk again. “Better.” He confirmed. Y/N grinned, giving the muscle of his shoulder a light squeeze. Then her name was called. She winced and looked back at him. “I gotta help fix that wagon Micha’s idiotic ass broke.” She huffed, and he snickered. “I’ll be alright. Thank ya.” He replied. Y/N couldn’t stop grinning, and she was certain her expression showed her adoration, not like she was trying to hide it. “Alrighty then. Just lemme know if ya need anythin’.” She rose her hand to his hair, mussing it up this time. He groaned and went to fix it, listening to her giggle as she left the tent. He caught a glimpse of her right before she disappeared from line of sight, sighing when she was gone. He was a little too familiar with the ache he had to follow her.

“Shit.” He sighed, raising the coffee to his lips again. This time, he winced at the taste. Maybe he wasn’t as into bitterness as he thought he was.

From that day on, he progressively got more and more needy for a shot of something full of sucrose. It was subtle most of the time, mostly to avoid all the teasing the rest of the gang would undoubtedly give. But he’d started to ask even when others were around, and oh how it helped, even on the worst day.

On the third day since he’d arrived drunk off his ass, he’d muttered something about he and his horse missing sugarcubes on hard days. He’d been battered around by mother nature trying to get fish for that night’s dinner, laughed at by Javiar because a trout jumped out the damn river and smacked him in the face. Then Dusty caught sight of a snake in the grass on the way back, turned too quick, and had him slide off the side into the dirt, scraped up his elbow and dent the bill of his hat.

She’d heard him and paused what she was doing, turning to him with that gaze full of sympathy. She used her foot to pull over a stool beside her, motioning with her head for him to sit. When he did, she carried on with her task, but did her best to keep her hand somewhere on his back, caressing light circles in his shoulders as she recounted how grateful she’d been for what he’d done the past week. Unashamedly inflating his ego, and oh how it helped, having him leaning on the table as he listened to her praises.

Then a week passed and he’d gotten caught in the rain, without his horse. It’d been his fault for thinking a walk was a good idea when he knew the clouds in the distance spelled out a storm, but he’d been so sure he could’ve made it back in time. Of course, he didn’t, and he arrived back into camp soaking wet and muddied. The rain had turned to a light sprinkle but he was dripping water and scowling. He’d nearly punched Micha’s jaw off when the man took joy in his misery, until he caught sight of Y/N sewing a hole in Karen’s tights under cover. She saw his sorry state, and just like before, gave him a smile. An aura of ‘you poor thing’ that made him want to curl up in her lap. As if he wasn’t a grown man with more than a few bounties to his name.

He’d trudged over with an expression more akin to a pout than a scowl. She looked up at him as he stood, dripping water. “You know, before the storm hit, I cleaned some of your clothes. Should be dry by now. I even had some of that scented soap left, lavender.” She said. Arthur sighed and nodded, he hadn’t said it, but she knew the ‘thank you’ was in his mind. He went off to his tent, finding the clothes she was talking about laid out and ready for him. The anger that’d built up began to dwindle as he changed into them, hanging them up along with his hat before he made his way back to her.

She looked up from sewing and smiled. She grabbed the stack of clothes she was tasked with sewing and moved them aside, offering up the space beside her. He sat down close enough, their knees touched, sighing when she patted his leg. “Good job today.” She said. Three words, and it made him sink down, eased and peaceful. He muttered his gratitude and listened to her hum a tune, sound mixing with the sound of water hitting the earth.

By the second week, he’d grown accustomed to asking a little more blatantly. Asking if she had anything sweet after dinner, if she knew how much sugar cost at the shop, if she knew of anything candied to chase down the burn of some whiskey. Each time, she’d reply casually, but sneak in her tender touches and merciful gaze. She’d give him a once over and always knew just how much sugar to pour into his cup. On days where he only needed a little, she’d give him encouraging praise and a pat on the back, enough to keep his chin held high. On worse days, she’d overload it, allowing him to lean his head against her as she distracted him from his day with recountings of her own. Oh, and petting his hair, he always seemed to like that.

It’d really gotten more obvious to the gang. Leading to some teasing and hushed conversations, mostly the girls asking if they were sweet on one another. Arthur had flushed bright red, though it’d been hidden by a light sunburn, and waved his hand. Talking over them to make it clear he didn’t wanna hear it. While Y/N, mysterious as always, had shrugged with a cheeky grin and sauntered off. Really, it wasn’t hard to realize why they’d ask. Tilly said she’d seen Y/N look at him like he’d helped raise the sun every morning, Mary-Beth replied with Arthur’s pension for drawing her when he thought no one was looking. A whole page spread dedicated to her, she claimed. Though, none of them were quite foolish enough to try and nab his journal to look and confirm. But, Karen did like the sight of it. As brazen as she could be, she’d always loved romance in books, and she wouldn’t lie and say that the interactions weren’t entertaining.

She slipped her theories to Dutch when she overheard he’d be sending Arthur into a town just past Valentine to check around, see if he could find anything useful. He wasn’t sure who to send with the boy, even if Arthur was pretty capable on his own. Dutch wasn’t one for match-making, and he didn’t like meddling in romantic affairs, not when there were important things to look after. But, Arthur had been good to him, and it wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t done well with all the tasks he’d given her. He couldn’t see the harm in getting them a little alone time. Maybe it’d do Arthur some good.

Thing was, getting there was fairly easy, if you ignored the run in with some men that Dutch had pissed off half-way through. Or the mini dust storm that hit them suddenly. All of which culminated in them getting into town as the sun was setting, something that pissed Arthur off immensely, since he had stuff that needed buying. Chances were the shops would be closed by now.

“Could rob’em.” Y/N whispered as she tethered her horse outside a hotel. Arthur paused the process of rolling his sore neck to look at her, eyebrow raised. “I thought you preferred payin’ shopkeeps.” He replied. “I was kiddin’, Arthur. There are better places to rob and people more deservin’ of losin’ money.” She gently smacked his arm with a snicker. Arthur grumbled, adjusting his hat. “I’ll get the room situation handled, just see if anyone’s open.” She said. “Yes ma’am.” Arthur held up his hands, beginning to walk across the street. “And I mean it! Pay fairly!” She shouted to him whilst she made her way to the hotel door, getting a hand wave in response.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The man behind the counter greeted her. An older man with a thick handlebar mustache. “Evenin’. What’s the price of a room, sir?” She asked. “Two beds is five dollars a night, a single is two dollars.” He replied. Y/N winced and considered her options for a moment. She imagined Arthur wasn’t too picky, but she worried maybe it’d be a little uncomfortable. But, if he really did feel that way, she could simply sleep in a chair. She shook off her worries and nodded. “A single then, please.” She replied, getting a nod. She grabbed her money as he grabbed the key. “Ah, do you have baths? How much do they cost?”

“About 25 cents, a dollar for a wash girl.” The man replied. She shook her head and slipped him forty cents. “I have a friend I’m stayin’ with. His name’s Arthur. Blue eyes, stubble, black hat, covered in dirt. Can’t miss’im.” She smiled. “If you could tell him I paid for a bath and the room, I’d appreciate it. Lord knows he’s earned it.”

The man nodded and pointed back to the bath rooms. Y/N thanked him again. She didn’t plan on staying in there long, just a quick rinse. She preferred not dragging outside into bed with her, gritty sand and dirt didn’t make for a good bed mate. She was out and set up in the room before Arthur arrived, she figured he’d found an open shop, maybe bargaining. He always said haggling was easiest when someone was tired or drunk, and it was best to strike a deal whenever possible. Just so long as you could be away fast enough before they realized how short the straw they drew was.

Her assumption was correct. Arthur managed to buy what Dutch told him too, had his bag heavier than before, weighing on his shoulder. The man bit back a wince when he raised his arm, rolling his shoulder, hoping it’d loosen the muscle. It only caused a sharp stabbing pain to pulsate from under his shoulder blade. He held his shoulder with his opposite hand and pushed into the hotel, finding the keeper about ready to leave. The man looked him over once and then gave a smile. “Arthur?” He asked, making the cowboy’s brows furrow. “Yes?” He replied suspiciously. “Young lady came in and paid for the room, and a bath. You made it just in time too, was about to close up.” The keeper explained, placing a key on the desk. Arthur picked it up and blinked. “A bath?” He asked. “She said you’d earned it. No wash girl though.” Arthur shook his head at that, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ before making his way back.

The steam that rose from the water wafted in the air and beckoned him. He would’ve been fine washing up in a river, he’d done that plenty, since warm baths were a luxury. But it never stopped being nice when he could get one. He told himself to thank Y/N when he could, feeling the warm water help ease the tension in his back. That knot in his shoulder hadn’t left though, and relaxing almost made it worse. He hissed through his teeth but tried to set it aside, enjoy what he could. But when it came time to wash his hair, he found it hard to lift his hands that high.

He had a high pain tolerance, he’d been shot and stabbed plenty of times, but that didn’t mean he liked pain. If he forced himself, he could’ve done it, but it felt like another stone thrown at him when he’d already been in a rock slide. One last little thing to mess with him, make his day a little worse. He grumbled to himself, rubbing at his shoulder again, cursing the air. He glanced up from the bubbles in the tub when he heard light steps down the hall, then a light knock at the door. He frowned and furrowed his brows. He didn’t pay for a wash girl, and given the time, they’d probably all gone anyway.

“Arthur? You in there?” Y/N’s voice spoke from the other side. His scowl turned into a mix of shock and shame. “Uh, yeah.” He said, coughing away a voice crack. He sank down a little more in the shield of bubbles when the door cracked a little, just enough for her head to poke in. “You took awhile, I was worried somethin’ happened. How long you been in here?” She asked. He shrugged. “Couple minutes.” He replied. He watched her gaze narrow, as if she was struggling to see, trying to make something out. “You ain’t washed your hair yet?” Her question made him sigh and flush pink. “Got a damn crick in my back, hurts to lift my arm. I’ll be fine, just gotta bare it.” He brushed off casually.

“Wh- Gosh, no. You don’t need to go hurtin’ yourself worse than you already are.” Without a moment of hesitation, she stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She’d gotten ready for bed, white night gown flowing around her ankles, hair undone. “I’ll wash your hair, sit up a bit.” She motioned. Arthur’s chest felt tight, like his ribs were bars and a rowdy prisoner banged against them, his heart the criminal. “I can’t ask ya to-” “You ain’t askin’, I’m offerin’, sweetheart. You’ve had a hard day, least I can do is help get all that dust out of your hair.” She cut him off, rolling back her sleeves, settling down on the stool. He swallowed. That heavy syrup sensation had returned to the back of his throat, catching words that threatened to break past the barrier of his teeth. Once she was settled behind him, she caught him staring over his shoulder, and sent him a grin.

With a motion of her hands, he sighed, lamenting. It’d been a long time since he’d felt so…boyish, immature maybe. So embarrassed by something like this. He’d had baths in rivers in plain sight of the gang, had a few wash girls do this exact job before, all that never bothered him. Why was it because of her that he felt so shy all of a sudden? He wasn’t the shy type, he didn’t think so anyway. Arthur picked at his nails under the water as she wetted his hair. She used two fingers under his chin, tilting his head back a bit so she didn’t get soap in his eyes. “Relax, Arthur. I ain’t waitin’ to tear your throat out.” She whispered, hushed words sent the hair on his arm standing up. He forced his muscles to loosen as best he could, though forcing didn’t do much good.

He stayed awkwardly stiff until he felt her fingers drag through his hair. Like she’d touched his brain directly, flipped a switch, he eased more into the bath with a sigh, leaning his head back into her palms. She bit back a quiet giggle, scrubbing lightly. “Hair’s gettin’ pretty long, you should let me trim it when we get back.” She said absentmindedly, being sure to drag her nails over his temples and behind his ears. She bit her bottom lip to fight off a laugh again when he let out a little groan from the back of his throat.

“Ya hear me?” She asked. “Huh? Oh uh, yeah, sure sure.” He replied, voice thick and low with tranquility. She kept her loving teases to herself, let him enjoy the moment, she certainly was. Maybe it was because she knew he appreciated it that it felt so fulfilling. Could’ve been that she just liked feeling useful, needed. Whatever the reason, she relished in it, taking her time. Just to make sure she got out all the muck.

Of course, she couldn’t milk it for that long. Eventually, she had to rinse out all the suds, ring out the excess water. He kept quiet but missed the treatment when she stood up. “Need anythin’ else, hun?” She asked, leaning into his line of sight. Like before, he looked up at her lazily, like he’d been floating in the clouds moments before. “Hm…no, I’m alright. Thank ya.” He nodded. She nodded back. Arthur looked back down at the bath, knowing he’d have to get out soon. He heard her step away to leave, glancing up again when she was at the door. “I’ll see you in a bit.” She said before leaving him alone once again. He stared at the door for a while, swearing the room got dimmer when she left, less warm too. He huffed and rubbed his face with his hands, slowly exhaling between his fingers. Cursing to himself.

When he left the bathroom, now in clothes from his bag, hair still damp, he meandered up the steps. His body felt heavy, and if it weren’t for the stabbing throb in his back, he’d be looking forward to dropping on the mattress. He opened the door to the room, met with a lamp on and the quiet humming of a familiar tone. He stepped in and shut the door, finding Y/N with a book in hand whilst sat upon a singular chair. He looked around the room and caught her eye once he was done surveying it. “One bed?” He asked. “It was cheaper. Figured you wouldn’t mind, but if you do, I’ll sleep right here.” She replied. Arthur scoffed. “I ain’t havin’ you sleep in a chair. I’ll sleep there-” “No ya won’t. You’ll take the bed, mister. I’m not negotiating.”

Her tone was firm and she pointed a finger to get her point across all the more strongly. Arthur let his bag slip to the floor, staring at her in disbelief, before he let out a breathy laugh. “Fine. But I’m still not havin’ you sleep in the chair.” He replied, walking to the bed in order to sit down. She tossed her hands up after marking her place in the story. “Alright, ‘suppose I can agree to that.” She laughed, only for her smile to fall when he grunted in pain. “You okay?”

He looked over at her and nodded. “Fine, just my shoulder ‘s all.” He answered. She stared at him for a moment longer, watching him tug at the collar of his shirt, trying to cool himself down. It was the height of Summer, even the nights were getting humid and uncomfortable. “Hot?” She asked. “It’s this damn shirt. Only one I had clean, but it’s made for Winter. I’d take it off but,” He motioned in her direction, much to her amusement. Crinkling her nose, she snickered and shook her head. “You act like it’s some kinda curse. You can sleep shirtless, I won’t mind. It’s not like skin’s gonna kill me, Arthur.”

“Didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable ‘s all.” He retorted. “Well I ain’t, but you certainly are. Go ‘head. It’s not problem to me, but you dyin’ of heat stroke might be.” Y/N motioned with her hand and he tapped his fingers on his knee for a moment. He muttered something before taking her advice. She did her best to remain respectful, though she caught a couple glances, nothing too distasteful. Her face fell again when he hissed about his back again, and when he tossed the shirt away, a series of pops emanated from the muscles, making her wince in his place. “You sure you’re alright?” She asked, standing up, leaving her book in the seat.

“I’ve had worse. It ain’t pleasant but I’ll live.” The man said with a light cough, rolling his neck, that too popped rather loudly. He felt her hand come up to replace his, exhaling when she applied pressure to a specific point of soreness. It hurt, but in the way a stretch in the morning did. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked at his sorry state. It always made her ache, especially if it was something she couldn’t help fix.

Arthur wasn’t a good man, she knew that. But it wasn’t like she could judge. He’d never been anything but good to her, did right by the gang as best he could too. Every day she swore he did something else that went either unnoticed or un-thanked, and that killed her. Sure, there were probably men more deserving of kindness, people who didn’t rob and shoot to survive. But she hadn’t fallen for them, hadn’t ever met a man like that of which could compare to Arthur. When God came to judge the man’s soul, she’d gladly plead his case through the bars of the pearly gates. He’d been through enough, and when her mind ran away from her into a place darker than the night, she could sense it wouldn’t be ending any time soon. That hurt to think about. To worry about an unforeseen future likely full of strife of all sorts, things she’d probably have no say in, no ability to save him from.

But she had him safe for a night. In a place with walls and locks on doors, in her sights and close enough to touch. She couldn’t fix every problem he had, but she could make this night a little easier, surely. It was the least she could do.

“You trust me?” She asked. Arthur glanced up at her, a bit confused, but he nodded. She patted his shoulder. “Gonna seem a lil awkward, but just trust me.” She motioned with her head to the mattress. “Lie on your front.” He blinked a few times rapidly, clearly more confused than he was a second prior, perhaps a bit bashful. Y/N snorted and shook her head. “Easy, cowboy. Nothin’ like that.” She reassured. Arthur tilted his head back, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he glanced her up and down. After a short staring contest, he sighed and tossed his hands up a bit, doing as he was told.

“If this is how you plan on killin’ me, I commend your patience.” He commented, cheek set on a pillow. He heard her laugh, and it helped ease the tension in the room. He knew full well she wasn’t going to hurt him, he was just talking to fill the room with something else to focus on, given how uncomfortable it felt. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what was happening. He jumped when her weight ended up around his waist. “Easy, I told you it’d be awkward, but I need you to trust me here, sweetheart.” Her voice said, patting his arm. Arthur scoffed a little. “Pardon me for bein’ caught off guard, ma’am.” He sassed, getting a light thump to the back of his head, which he complained about.

“Hush. And keep your arms down, won’t work if you’re puttin’ stress on’em.” Y/N answered. He let his arms fall, grumbling about her being bossy, before he felt the heel of her palm press against his shoulder blade. His mouth curled into a hurt scowl, inhaling between his teeth. She rubbed a slow circle and hushed him quietly, instructing him to breath. It hurt, but the muscle began to loosen. She could feel the knot of tension under the skin, clicking her tongue sympathetically, it had to hurt like hell. “Okay. I need you to follow my instruction, ‘kay? I want you to take a deep breath, all the way until you can’t fill your lungs no more.” She whispered. Arthur did as told, not really sure where it was going, but he wasn’t up for questioning.

“Good, now, exhale it all. Until your chest is completely empty. Go slow.” Her words helped make him sleepier, more relaxed, which she knew good and well. It was why she was whispering. As he pushed out the oxygen until he was straining to keep doing so, with all her weight, she pushed into his back with her palm. A loud pop sound echoed off the walls with the quick following of a loud groan into the pillow he laid on.

She lessened the pressure and rubbed his shoulder again. “Did I get it?” She asked. Arthur didn’t give words, but let out an affirmative noise, face buried in the pillow. She smiled as he seemed to sink into the mattress the more she worked out the tension. She wasn’t content at just the shoulder though, so she moved over to the other side. Using her knuckles to trace around the bones. Every now and then, she’d stumble across another little knot, working them out with dutiful care.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, Morgan?” Y/N asked after some silence, pulling at the muscle in his lower back. Once again, he simply gave a noise. She snickered when she caught a yawn he let out. When he let out an appreciative noise when she worked at his waist, she chuckled again. “See, no one realizes how much strain we put on our lower backs until you’re in a position like this.” She commented lazily. “Mhm.” He replied. Y/N couldn’t stop smiling again, her cheeks were starting to hurt. She glanced down when she felt a warm touch on her leg, finding his hand turned toward her, lightly holding her ankle. She melted as his thumb carefully caressed the bone, a silent bit of appreciation. She knew full well she couldn’t left it there, but the moment was so sweet, and not easy to come by.

He blinked slowly when she leaned over him, tapping his temple. Her weight was off of him, something that kept him from dozing off. Arthur lifted his chin, looking at her in his peripheral. “Mind flippin’ over, hun?” She asked. He yawned again, nodding slightly. He moved from his stomach to his back, too relaxed to make a cheeky comment about her sitting back down. He rubbed his eye tiredly as she picked up his opposite hand. “Ya know, if someone asked me if you were drunk right now, I’d say yes. You look like you’re gone, mister.” She teased, pressing her thumbs into his palm before dragging the pressure down his wrist. Arthur let his other hand drop down, his vision a bit hazed over. “Might be.” He mumbled, barely opening his mouth to speak.

He smiled slightly when she laughed. He felt the pull of his tendons as she pushed his hand back, cautious to not over do it. “Sorry.” He commented unconsciously, the word slipping out without much thought. Y/N looked at his face with her brows furrowed. “What for?” She questioned, moving her hand up to his bicep. He flinched when the soreness became apparent under her touch. “My hands. Ain’t too nice for holdin’ I know.” He said. “Now why would you think that, Arthur?” She asked, squeezing the muscle that connected his neck to his shoulder. He tilted his chin out of the way as he thought of how to word his answer.

“You got dainty hands, all soft and nice. Mine…mine are all scratched up and tough. ‘s gotta feel like gravel at this point.” He explained. Y/N scoffed, taking his other hand in her own to repeat the process. “Oh shush, that ain’t true. They’re a workin’ mans hands, that’s all. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with’em.” She replied. “They ain’t kind like yours either.” Arthur retorted, making her pause for a second. She shook her head with a sigh, working out the tension in his scapulae muscle. She stopped and moved her hand to his jaw instead, prompting him to look at her.

She looked inviting in the warm lamp light, accentuating the curve of her cheekbones and the color of her eyes. How warm she was, and he could smell the hint of soap. “Robbin’ or not, you’re a good man, Arthur. Maybe not all the time, but you ain’t a monster either.” She said. His face showed he wasn’t buying it. He eased further when her hand dragged up, pushing his hair back. “No I ain’t.” He whispered back. Y/N clicked her tongue and grabbed his cheeks with both her hands, leaned close and eyes intense with the need to convey her point. “Arthur Morgan, look at me.” She demanded. He listened, even if it felt difficult to do.

“I don’t care bout the law’s definition, and I’m well beyond the words of the Holy Ghost. I don’t care how many men out there hope for you to hang, and I don’t care how much blood stains those hands of yours.” She stroked his cheekbone and up beside his eye, running over the lines that had formed in his skin, brought on by years of expressions. Mainly laughter and grins, things she savored every time she saw them. “The Arthur I know is a loyal man, a workin’ man, a brother and a mentor, a leader and a guard. He fights for what needs to be done and earns his keep, and then some. Your hands might be gun wielding but they’re also caring. When you draw in that journal, or when you pet your horse, pat Jack on the back like he was your own blood.”

His eyes had widened by now and his throat felt like it was being gripped, a pressure building up and threatening to break like a damn. It was so much to take in, too much, but looking away felt like blasphemy. He might not have been a man of worship, not to God, not anymore. But to sin against her might be what damned him, and he wasn’t ready for that. He never would be.

“You might be a bad man, but you ain’t been nothin’ but good to me. Whether you like it or not, you will always be a good man to me. And I’ll be damned if I let you go a day not knowin’ it.” Y/N finished, her voice a bit choked by now. She managed to keep her tears down, but her eyes got misty nevertheless. Arthur rolled his jaw and clenched his teeth, at loss for what words to say. She fixed his hair again and sighed. “Am I clear?” She asked. He stared, fidgety, before he sat up suddenly. She felt his arms wrap around her waist tightly, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

Y/N took a moment to process before she relaxed, bringing her hands to him once again. Her cheek rested on his head, scratching his scalp, the other hand resting on his shoulder. “You haven’t answered me.” She commented. Arthur squeezed her for a moment. “Loud ‘nd clear, ma’am.” He replied, voice a bit hoarse but not any less genuine. She smiled and turned to peck him on the temple. “I’ll keep tellin’ you til it sticks. Mark my words, Arthur Morgan. I’ll keep that bitter man you think you are at bay.” She promised. He managed a choked up chuckle against the fabric of her nightgown.

“I’ll hold you to that, sugar.”

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